


The Memory Of Her

by SleepingwithWolves



Series: The distance keeps us safe [2]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms
Genre: Before Battle of the Bastards, F/M, Inspired by that one scene from the movie Portrait of a Lady on Fire, bookverse, jonsa new year drabble event
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-25
Updated: 2021-01-25
Packaged: 2021-03-18 00:28:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,385
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28983402
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SleepingwithWolves/pseuds/SleepingwithWolves
Summary: The women's voices grew louder. It was a war cry yet strangely romantic. He imagined making love in a field somewhere in a distance. Close enough to the camp to hear the singing as he's kiss and play with his lover's hair while she sighed and smiled a secret smile.-Day 2: SongsJonsa New Year Drabble Event
Relationships: Jon Snow/Sansa Stark
Series: The distance keeps us safe [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2124102
Comments: 12
Kudos: 42
Collections: Jonsa New Year Drabbles





	The Memory Of Her

**Author's Note:**

> Enjoy!

He looked to Tormound in question as the man shrugged. " We like to sing and dance before we run off to our deaths, I'll have you know."

It did nothing to ease the scowl on his face. Yet, he followed though still as his eyes caught a glimpse of Sansa being lead to the gathering of free folk by the fire. When Jon was younger, He'd spent his life hearing tales of the wildlings and all the things they did. Lies, most of those stories. But, there was still truth enough between the lines for him to worry for her. For him to keep his eyes locked on her, fearing that she'd be taken.

He flexed his fists, his eyes trailing her as she stood by the fire. The spear wives had surprisingly been taken in quickly by her, he knew. Months on the field and travels had allowed Sansa to do what she did best. Use her charm. And she had charmed them all despite what he had assumed. He rubbed a hand against his chest. Jon was everything but a charming man.  
He took a quick look around. Thankfully, he did not find the moon haired wilding princess amongst the gathering. He knew that Sansa and she had had a few conversations before Jon intervened. He had been afraid of Sansa refusing to listen. She had made a habit of it. Of doing her own thing.

He thought of Val again. She had heard his threat loud and clear. _Good_ , he thought bitterly.

But the thought of Val had flared up thoughts he'd rather not have. His chest ached. And his nostrils flared with the smell of burnt flesh and the screams of a dying princess.  
_Ghost_ , he called out weakly. And the wolf was there, chasing a rabbit through the snow.

He wasn't that hungry and the rabbit was fast and he felt playful. So, he stopped a second before he could snap his teeth and have it in his mouth. To let the rabbit escape and chase again.

Voices brought him back. He stood still for a moment to regain the shift of his senses. Being in Ghost was easier than coming back to his bones. _Ghost_ , his heart let out. Mind ready to chase the familiarity but Jon willed himself to stay. _Hurry up_ , he told the wolf, _and come to me._

A group of women begun to sing by the fire. With each word, their voices reverberated, growing with the rhythm of their beating hands and feet. It echoed around his senses. The seamless mix of it left him spellbound until he remembered the hunger he'd felt within Ghost. The song made him feel a different kind of hunger.

Unwittingly, his eyes searched and found Sansa. She stood at the corner, a bit cut off. Her mouth was parted, and the fire danced on her skin and in her hair. She stood fascinated, caught between a reverie the same as he had been a minute ago. The women's voices grew louder. It was a war cry yet strangely romantic. He imagined making love in a field somewhere in a distance. Close enough to the camp to hear the singing as he's kiss and play with his lover's hair while she sighed and smiled a secret smile.

He swallowed. It was Ygritte he saw in his mind. Who else? Sansa from the distance could be mistaken as her by someone who did not know either of them better. She had borrowed the clothes of free folk and had been wearing their furs during the colder nights. Their hair was the same color too. But he knew it was different in shades and texture up close. ( _He wondered how Sansa's hair would feel between his fingers)_  
And the clothes? Sansa looked regal, a true princess that she was of the north. How she managed to look more graceful than he had ever seen anyone look in the entirety of his life wearing ragtag clothing, he'd never know.

She looked unreachable too as he always remembered his half-sister to be in the haze of his memories. 

Sansa turned and caught his eye. Between them, the fire raged. It felt warm, instead of blazing under her gaze. Pleasant like the hot springs in Winterfell. The shadows danced faster on Sansa's skin. His mouth went dry suddenly. _Unreachable_ , he thought again. But then she'd smile a smile she saved only for him and Jon corrected himself, saving the shame for later, _perhaps not_.

The music was louder than anything, even his own undead beating heart. The man had finally joined in too. It would have been unbearable but Jon became numb to it. Sansa turned to the side and walked, he moved the same without a thought. Her eyes never left his. He could feel his sweaty hands, his dry mouth, and throat, and licked his lips.

He watched as her breath turned shallow. Sansa was not smiling anymore, but her face and hooded dark eyes had changed in an expression Jon could not read as she watched him. The rhythm reached higher and higher. Begging for a release. He swallowed and took a fast long stride to where she was. Came close enough to touch.  
But could he?

(Shame, he felt it deep in his bones. Forgive me, he'd ask her later and she'll never know why.)

He thought again of a couple making love.

Her eyes sparkled like gold. Blue flickering lights. She licked her lips, they looked chapped and slightly pale from the cold winds. Jon could help bring back their color. It would be a harmless favor. "Sansa" he let out. Harmless. The thought of it had made him hard.

The song came crashing down. The high reached and the cheers of the singers and the listeners got through Sansa. She broke their gaze and looked. By the time she'd look back at Jon, the spell was lost. " I- " she started and stopped, searching for words. "It's nice here."

"Hmm". His fingers ached. He reached out and touched her shoulders. Followed a line up to her face as she trembled. Feeling her shiver under his touch and her breath hitched as he brushed past a sensitive spot. His fingers twisted around a wisp of hair that had escaped from her braid. Jon tucked it back behind her ears.  
"I told you not to go out alone." He found himself saying. It was the only thing he thought that he could actually say. Forgive me, I can not resist. 

"I'm not alone." She muttered defiantly. Jon rolled his eyes.  
"You were if I hadn't come along."

She grinned as if she'd caught him. "But you did."

Jon choose not to respond to that.

Behind her, there was a commotion. A few shouts and whispers. "Stay with Ghost or me wherever you go." He told her.

"I'll choose Ghost always. He's more of a gentleman than you." She winked. Jon tried hard not to smile as the wolf came to stand next to her, as tall as Sansa was, with his nose red with blood but Sansa did not care. She leaned her head against his fur. "So warm" she whispered. "Such a good boy you are."

Jon swallowed as he felt the ghost of her touch. He nodded to her then and moved to walk away. But her hand reached out to grip his hard. Her fingers intertwined with his. "Stay," she told him.

He shook his head. He did not trust himself to speak. Jon looked around at the people. At their laughs, their dancing, and the smell of food and wine encapsulating it all. Jon did not belong.  
Sansa pressed hard on his hand. Don't, he wanted to say, you don't know what I am half-sister. "Stay here. There's nothing else for you to do."

"Sansa, they won't want me." He finally said. No matter who they were, crow or the free folk, the truth of his death had pushed them all away except a few he could name on two fingers. Here, they stood to celebrate life. What place would a dead man have?

"I want you," Sansa whispered, her voice hoarse and low. He blinked at her. "So stay, _for me_?"

How could he ever say no?

**Author's Note:**

> I made a fanart for this short too. But can't figure out how to post it here. So, if you want to check that out, find me on tumblr as the--pipsqueak--alchemist.


End file.
